shaking my fist at god

It’s been a tough time lately.

The Global Youth Peace Summit was amazing and also incredibly challenging on many levels. I can’t even quite explain it, to tell the truth. But in the two weeks since it ended, I’ve spent a lot of time alone (nothing new there) and I’ve been pretty depressed. I have been weaving all kinds of stories about what people think of me and what a fucked up person I am. And although I know that these are not true, that in fact these same people like and even love  me very much, and in fact I’m not fucked up at all, I’ve found it really hard to get out of the story.

In addition, I’ve hardly had any work lately, because my company just doesn’t have any work to give me, and since I’m paid a very good hourly wage but not salary, if I don’t have work, I don’t get paid. It also gives me WAY too much time alone. And when I’m alone, I get depressed. The one just sort of follows the other.

The time after the Summit is generally tough for everyone involved. The village that we create there is a powerful space of love, acceptance and healing for everyone, no matter what role they play or how they show up. It just happens. And leaving it is generally hard and can often be a letdown. It’s kind of like what happens for many people after Christmas. This year I had hoped that since I live in Austin now, it would not be as hard. In fact, I think it’s been the hardest post-summit experience yet.

I find that I’m embarrassed about what’s been going on for me and resistant to blogging about it. However, at the same time, I feel incredibly pulled to do so. In fact, I even started a new blog the other day, just so I could shout out without reservation how I feel and what I’m going through.

But, since I made a commitment a while ago on this blog to not hold back anymore, and to reveal the “deep, dark shit,” and also because something in me tells me that this is part of my service and what I have to offer the world, I’m going to write about it here. Basically, when things get bad, I hate myself. I honestly truly HATE myself. I think that I am a terrible person and that I really don’t deserve to be here. I think that other people don’t care about me. I think that I should not have come here to Austin, that the people at Amala Foundation don’t want me here, that they wish I would leave.

I think of past arguments with random people and past situations that were hard and I get stuck obsessing on those situations also.

I think about being single and that there is something innately ugly about me and that is why I’m single. I think about how hard it has been for me to do work in general, and how much I procrastinate, and how I don’t stay focused on creating photographs and writings, and it spirals into a truly ugly internal put-down session. It is just insane. Truly. Insane.

The thing is, I know this stuff isn’t true. I KNOW IT’S NOT. But I can’t believe that when I’m in it. I just get sucked down, like it’s a huge deep-ocean whirlpool from some 50s horror movie.

Let me say this, also, the good news: It’s shifting. I’m climbing out. I went to a volunteer appreciation thing at Amala last night. It was sweet. We did a sacred pipe ceremony (native american style) and then had a talking circle where we passed the talking stick. One of my friends and I went together and we both have been feeling very depressed and horrible and we both spoke up during talking circle. It was great to just say out loud in that community: “I am doing terribly, I hate myself, I think you all hate me, I don’t know who I am or why I’m here,” and then just pass the stick! It was awesome to do that, actually.

I truly didn’t want people to come up and get all huggy with me after, and people were very sensitive and kind in that way, but I felt a lot of love sent to me without direct contact. I did get a bit of very solid loving feedback from some people I feel very comfortable with, and then someone else who I respect and care about immensely, and was one of the people I had really convinced myself did not like me anymore, sat and talked with me for a while. He’s so real and so sweet and was very solidly rooted in knowing that everything that was happening is FOR me and not TO me, and that it’s all serving my evolution. As soon as he said that, I knew it was true. And I also realized that he indeed still cares about me and likes me, and that nothing at all was wrong.

Then I spent some more time today with someone else I care about a lot but who I have stories about that cause me pain. We had a sweet conversation as well, and we just kind of roundabout got into some of these stories I have made up. As we talked, I again realized that all my stories were missing big huge chunks of information and that when those were filled in, then the whole story shifted and my confusion was evident. Which felt fantastically freeing.

So, now, I feel like things are on a more even keel. I pulled a tarot card from the Osho Zen Tarot deck (online) and it was “Trust.”

“Trust life. If you trust, only then can you drop your knowledge, only then can you put your mind aside. And with trust, something immense opens up. Then this life is no longer ordinary life, it becomes full of God, overflowing.”

That resonated so fully and completely.

this is me today

Oh and the reason I named my post “shaking my fist at god” is because I’ve been fully doing that lately. If you know me, you know that the god of my understanding is simply the universe, all that is, the pattern and love that underlies, permeates, creates, sustains and destroys all that is. Generally, I cultivate trust that the life unfolding is the exact right life for me. But this past week in the deepest muck of this darkness, I have denied and resisted, shouted and sworn, “why have you forsaken me?” And it felt like an important part of whatever this process is. To just say, NO, God! WHY ME, God? Fuck you, God!

and now…the other side of the mountain…the downhill side. for a while. [like the old Donovan song: “first there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is”]


6 thoughts on “shaking my fist at god”

  1. Yikes..I made it a third of the way through before the tears started streaming. I really needed to read what you wrote. Since last September, my -now – 17 1/2 year old has been behaving more and more like his father…dishonest, abusive, lazy, making snide, arrogant, distasteful comments to his family and peers to their faces and behind their backs. He will no longer be able to make the goals he had set. Grieving the loss of the dreams I had for him..which had been his dreams too…and which were very attainable without a ton of effort..the adorable little blond haired boy who has become sullen and negative towards anyone who makes any demands of his time, effort. Horrible.

    Yes, raising any teenager is like trying to nail jello to a wall, but when they have mental health issues (depression, ADHD) and a father who encourages nasty behavior…it is awful. So when he left to live with his father on June 20th..I have hated myself every day. Also shaking my fist at God. Not that I wanted him to do or be a certain thing..his interests in science are completely different than mine..but he wasn’t able to put down the video games long enough to study. Being gifted has been a curse for him..he never really had to work at anything to do well..and unfortunately has come to believe that he is somehow “above” working hard. To watch him fall..and then to watch him blame, tell lies about me (and teachers etc..) to justify his failure..The depth of the sadness..excruciating pain, betrayal (the lies he truly seems to believe about me)..pain like I have never felt…and of course..the not wanting to admit even to myself the thoughts that can accompany that. I have experienced a lot of death and loss over the years, but this was deep loss and deep betrayal despite knowing the facts. Knowing what reality is and believing it are completely different things. I have not had any alone time until last night and then tonight..however, I have felt VERY, VERY alone.

    It made me realize – once again – how having been a child survivor has really impacted my whole being. All the therapy in the world doesn’t make issue go away..just changes your view. You may recall the several layers of clothing I wore. Standing up and doing the right thing and experiencing – at least temporary abandonment.. I am not sure why this lesson keeps happening and what exactly I am supposed to give to the world and grow from the world..because it continues to be painful whenever it happens.

    I am very much trying to crawl out. Everyone says that this was clearly Ian’s choice and I had to put my foot down and protect his little brothers – to whom he was also aggressive and nasty…but maybe I needed to hear how another rational, bright, accomplished, talented, gorgeous woman HATED herself to acknowledge that I have HATED…(not just hated..but HATED) myself too.

    I would like to say that I agree I need to have trust life. I know that I trust that I must continue to do the right thing, and I know that I must trust enough to push myself to have courage, but I am not really feeling like I can trust life. I do know that I have to begin to trust that when “things” go bad, it doesn’t mean I am defective, fucked up or bad. So thank you for your courage to put your thoughts into words where I could read them. You are a gem. Precious.

    1. Thank you for your bravery to share this, Megan. I feel you across the miles. You are not alone. The pain we go through silently…we do not have to hold it in. It serves us and each other when we speak. I thank you for showing me that. Love.

  2. After darkness, come light. You have to believe in that. The clouds will break, the sun will shine. Believe in you. I do! Love you. Xoxoxo

  3. I think being angry at good is a perfectly natural feeling at times. None of us understands this place. None of us understands God, All our concepts about God are false. Who can understand or really know anything about any entity who can create a universe (another probably false concept.) Go ahead, be angry at God, if God is unconditional love, God won’t be hurt by your angry. Looks to me like we are supposed to feel angry about a lot of stuff in this body, on this earth. Other times feel the love of or for God, or whatever else you feel about God.

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